I'm Sorry
by JulesDPM
Summary: When failure is hard to take.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: Thank you to Dickonfan not only for the beta but also for writing an Epilogue which you should read after this story._

I'm Sorry

Chapter 1

Virgil had many places around Tracy Island where he would express his artistic side. Sometimes he would sit on the rocks and sketch the view across the shore to the ocean. If he needed to be more clinical because he was trying out a new painting technique he would repair to the Round House where there was space to lay all his equipment around him. Occasionally he would use the balcony or pool-side where he could paint his family. This would not necessarily be an attempt at a portrait. He sometimes enjoyed a more abstract representation – a sweep of blue for Gordon diving in to the pool, a flash of red for the hot-headed Alan or shades of yellow to show Tin Tin lighting up the island with her sunny personality.

Today he was in his bedroom. When he needed to paint or draw in privacy that was where he chose. He would lock the door and immerse himself for hour after hour in his creation, the only thing able to distract him being a signal for the start of a rescue. Any attempts from the rest of the family to contact him were not only ignored but not even registered.

This particular painting had taken some time. He was anxious to get the features on the female in the foreground of the picture just right. He reworked her face many times until he was satisfied, if not pleased, with her serene expression of happiness. Her arm was stretched out to a male behind her. The two were holding hands, obviously deeply in love, revelling in the moment. Virgil looked at the painting from many angles, desperate for it to be perfect.

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_Three months earlier_

Virgil was humming as he landed Thunderbird Two in the danger zone at the beginning of a rescue. To be honest, it was not an appropriate time to be humming but he could not get a particular love aria out of his head. He had been listening to it when the call to a rescue came. Now with Scott busy at Mobile Control and John prepping the vehicles in the pod there was quiet in the cockpit and he played with the intricacies of the tune while simultaneously dealing with the intricacies of land his 'bird safely. But the humming vanished the moment that Scott's commanding voice came through the comms.

"Meet me by the entrance to the pod and move fast. We haven't got much time with this one."

The location was Vancouver and the problem had been a minor earthquake. The well built city had not been greatly troubled and, although the emergency services had plenty to deal with, they were able to cope with the damage. The problem for International Rescue was a passenger tunnel that ran under the Barrund Inlet. The tunnel was so old it was part of the history of the area. It wasn't often used as most people preferred to cross the river by the tram tunnel or one of the road bridges.

The tunnel had been unable to take the force of the tremor and, after 150 years of grand service, collapsed unceremoniously during the 'quake. A father and son and their bicycles had been swept away. Two joggers had been buried under rubble. A skateboarder had thought himself safe but had been quickly drowned by the water rushing into his area of the tunnel. These were people International Rescue would never be able to help. However, scanners had picked up some signs of life especially in the areas of the tunnel that sloped upwards from the river bed to join the road.

Gordon had already been dispatched in Thunderbird 4 to take a look at the damage and rescue possibilities from underwater. Virgil and John were intending to use the Mole and other digging equipment to work their way down from the top.

Within a couple of hours, Gordon had managed to affect a rescue from Thunderbird 4 and John and Virgil had rescued five people from the surface rubble on both sides of the river.

Virgil returned from dropping a victim off at the triage point and went over to Scott at Mobile Control.

"What's the situation, now?" he asked his eldest brother and field commander.

"Things are looking up. What we need to concentrate on now is a possible live victim who is buried on this side of the river quite a bit further down than you've been before. John has sent the locator down to see if we can get some sort of contact established to check we have a valid rescue objective rather than a recovery situation. Go and see him, okay?"

"FAB." Virgil walked off sighing. Scott had obviously just been updating politicians on the situation by his turn of phrase. He wished he had just said: "I'm not letting you down there until we're sure they're alive and not dead."

He soon found John who was on his hands and knees by a small hole where the foot tunnel had originally started from. He was feeding an ingenious rope down the hole. The locator, as the rope was known, had the strength to hold a small comms device to its end but its material properties made it run across surfaces like water. It didn't snag on the jagged edges of concrete or rock but instead flowed across them allowing the user to send it into areas where there were only tiny holes or crevices.

"How's it going?"

John glanced at him. "It's gone a long way in what looks to be the right direction but it's still hit and miss. Scott and Alan are tuned into the comms. They'll let us know if they hear anything. Gordon's still scouting in Four."

Virgil sat down next to John watching him feed the locator while the two of them unconsciously held their breaths as if being as silent as possible would make a difference. The silence was broken by a squeak from Alan that sounded from John's wrist comm.

"I can hear breathing! I think I hear a woman speaking….she's saying…she's saying 'Help!' Weak but alive."

Scott immediately broke in. "Alan, get an exact location while I try and make contact with her. Okay, John, Virg. Get going!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

John looked at Virgil. "The Mole? I'm not sure…"

"No, you're right. The Mole's great in firm earth or concrete but from what we've done so far this stuff is a shifting mass. We need to be more gentle. Hand tools but the ones with the strongest motors to get down there fast."

"Vertical shaft to one side and horizontal tunnel to the victim."

"You read my mind, let's go."

They swung into action again, galvanised by the thought of rescuing someone else. Virgil and John soon made headway and the sides of the hole were shored up by a mixture of the same fast-setting concrete used by the Mole to line the tunnels it made. As well as ensuring they could get someone down there they had to guarantee that they could get them and the, possibly severely injured, victim back up. Gordon joined the team but when the time came to send one person down to dig the horizontal tunnel to the victim there was no discussion over who that would be.

"Okay, Virgil, you're good to go," said John. "Once you're in the tunnel maintain good comms with Alan if no one else."

"Nag, nag," replied Virgil amiably.

"He's been taking Scott lessons," said Gordon to Virgil.

Virgil tunnelled the hole towards the victim. There wasn't time to do a big fancy tunnel so there was only room for him, his equipment and a small first aid pack attached to his belt. He soon lost sight of the outside world and the sound of his brothers, and his ears strained for any noise from the victim. He thought he heard her voice and shouted back.

"Hang on in there. This is International Rescue." He listened for a reply and heard a fit of coughing. He proceeded as fast as safety allowed and his drill soon hit air. Within a minute he had made a hole into a small cave made by the miraculous coincidence of a pipe and wall that were supporting each other in such a way as to prevent the victim being crushed. She was lying flat on her back, held down by rubble on her legs.

"Hey there!" Virgil smiled his most reassuring smile. "How're doing?"

"Better since I saw you."

"Good, let's see how quickly we can get you out of here. What's your name?"

"Megan."

"Okay, for starters, where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere."

"I see," replied Virgil calmly. "Let's give you the once over."

"My feet are so cold and my stomach and head hurt."

Virgil assessed the situation with his small but powerful flashlight while reporting back. "Thunderbird 5, I have located the victim. Assessing injuries."

"FAB."

Virgil worked out what he needed to do to move Megan without injuring her further while talking to her gently but reassuringly. He quickly bandaged some injuries on her legs and after basic checks decided he could risk getting her along the tunnel.

"Thunderbird 5 and Mobile Control, victim has leg wounds and…"

Virgil didn't get to finish his sentence. The earth moved for him and Megan and rocks and dirt filled the cavern. Virgil instinctively threw himself across Megan to try and shield her from the worst and the groan that she emitted, he reflected, was not the usual groan of pleasure he expected when he got a girl in this position. Rumbling filled his ears and dust filled his nose and the flashlight flickered out as it was hit by a rock.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Small bits of rubble rained down on Virgil while Megan sobbed beneath him. Finally the rumble died away to be replaced by several voices shouting at him from his comms.

"Virg?" "You okay?" "Virgil – report!"

Realising he was still alive Virgil coughed up a load of dust and then spoke.

"What in the hell was that?"

Scott's voice was now calm. "Aftershock. Give me an assessment of your situation."

By the continued sobbing Megan was obviously still alive. Virgil fumbled for the torch, got it working and shone it towards the direction of his entrance hole. He couldn't even work out where it has been. The aftershock had obviously been too much for the thin concrete shoring. He swore under his breath.

"Er…yeh, my exit is now blocked. I'm going to need some assistance getting to the surface."

"FAB. Stand by."

The comms went quiet and Virgil sighed and then turned his attention to the victim. He shifted to one side of Megan and gave her the once over. She was distressed and obviously in pain.

"We're just going to have to wait a little bit for some help from my colleagues. How're you doing?"

"My stomach hurts."

"They'll be a quick as possible." Virgil finally concentrated on the person rather than the injuries. "So where were you heading?"

Megan coughed and then gave a small smile. "To meet my fiancé after work. I was early so I thought I would walk…my mistake."

"Well, he's a lucky guy to have you meet him."

"I don't do it often. It's just I've been away at a conference in London, England for a week and I missed him."

"When are you getting married?"

"September." Megan's contented look became distorted with pain and she groaned. "I will make it, won't I?"

"Of course you will," replied Virgil smoothly although at that moment he had no idea if he would make September himself. "What's his name?"

"Aidan. My lovely….Aidan." Megan's voice became faint. Virgil started and then pushed down his panic. He ran his flashlight over Megan's legs but the bandages, while dirty, had not stained red showing renewed leg bleeding. But he didn't like the way she held her stomach. There were no external injuries there and there was not a lot he could do in this situation about internal ones. He got on his comms, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.

"Gordon, like to give me a status report while I twiddle my thumbs?"

There was a short pause and then. "Sorry, Virg. It's not too bad. We'll be with you in ten max."

"Make it five," Virgil replied. He suddenly felt edgy. He had been so sure he would get Megan out. Then, as she had talked strongly and the makeshift cave around them appeared to be holding after the aftershock, he felt sure that his brothers would get both him and Megan out and she would soon be in hospital being patched up. Now he wasn't feeling so optimistic.

"Megan? Megan?"

"Wha..?"

"Megan, tell me about Aidan." He wanted her to keep talking for both their sakes.

"We were going to the cabin this weekend. My mom's cabin. By the lake. He's a chef and doesn't get much time off…"

"Does he cook for you?"

"Yes, he…" Megan coughed and to Virgil's horror blood sprayed out of her mouth. He tried to keep his face emotionless but she was looking up and away from him anyway.

"Tell me what he's like. Megan? What's Aidan like?"

There was no reply for a moment and then Megan spoke in a whisper. "He's has beautiful dark hair….he's not fat, not like most chefs. He's wonderful and he says that I'm….I'm…the love of his…"

"Megan? Megan!"

Virgil began a flurry of movement checking her vitals, urging her to talk, re-strapping her bandages, making sure there were no sharp stones under her, useless, useless attempts to look after her. Useless. He eventually slumped back. When Gordon triumphantly broke through the wall he found Virgil sitting quietly with his eyes closed.

"Virgil?"

"Too late…" was Virgil's quiet response.

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Virgil stepped back from the painting for the last time. He could do no more. No artist ever really felt they had finished a piece. There was a long period of touching and retouching before they could let go and allow others to see it. Virgil, however, would never let anyone see this painting. As with so many of the works completed in his room it would remain private. When it was dry he would store it away carefully as he had done with others before. He presumed that, after his death, they would be found and destroyed. By then it wouldn't matter.

He gazed at the painting and if he had been the type to cry there would have been tears in his eyes. He felt that he had, in a small way, righted a wrong. There was Megan at the fore, not bloodied and dying but full of life, beautiful and alive. She was holding hands with Aidan and he was gazing at her in adoration. The painting was bursting with devotion and happiness. Two people in love, to be together forever, revelling in their union. And in the background there was a wooded area. A path led through it to a small wood cabin with a welcoming open door. On closer inspection a roaring log fire could be seen, its light falling on a table laid out with a delicious dinner for two.

How long Virgil stood looking at the painting he did not know. Eventually he moved with effort. He extended his paint-stained hand and gently touched the figure of Megan.

"I'm sorry," he said.

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_Thank you for reading "I'm Sorry." Please now continue onto the epilogue written by Dickonfan: __.net/u/1121439/Dickonfan__ It is called "How Do You Mend a Broken Heart?" Thanks._


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